


Cowboy

by TulipGirl



Category: Chanoey - Fandom, Friends (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-17 15:08:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29102286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TulipGirl/pseuds/TulipGirl
Summary: This story takes place in July of 1996 although it is independent of any of the actual Friends episodes. It tells the tale of Joey's preparation for a role in a play ... he needs Chandler's help to rehearse.
Relationships: Chandler Bing/Joey Tribbiani
Kudos: 45





	Cowboy

“Chandler, I need your help,” Joey says to me the second I walk through the door of our apartment.

I pause, mid-stride, and look over at him. He’s sitting at the kitchen counter leaning over a thick document which, knowing Joey’s aversion to reading, could only be a script. 

“How much is it going to cost me this time?” I ask as I walk through the kitchen area into the main living room … throwing my knapsack on my recliner chair and then turning back to face him.  
“What?” he asks, clearly confused. Then he works out what I mean … “No, I don’t need money, I need you to kiss me.”

Now it’s my turn to be confused. Kiss him? Why? 

“What did you say?” I ask him.  
“I have this audition tomorrow … for a play … and I have to kiss a guy … two of them in fact. So I need your help because I’ve never kissed a guy before … you know that,” he tells me.  
“Really? Two guys? What’s the role? It’s not porn is it?” I ask him, coming closer and holding my hand out in request to see the script.  
“Chandler … they don’t do live porn plays … even I know that,” he says in an exasperated tone as he hands me the document. “No, it’s an art-house thing … The Boys In The Band.”

I look down at the cover page which does indeed list this as the title. Apparently, it’s being revived at an Off-Broadway theatre called the Lucille Lortel with a duration of 10 weeks, starting in one month.

“Are you auditioning for the role of Cowboy?” I ask him.  
“You’ve seen it before? Wow, I’d never even heard of it … yeah … the character’s name is known as just Cowboy, he’s a …” he says, although he’s cut off by me.  
“Male prostitute,” I interrupt, flicking the script open and scanning the first page of dialogue.  
“Yeah … when did you see it?” he asks me, clearly impressed by my knowledge of the play.  
“I’ve seen the movie, we studied it in college,” I tell him, still reading intently. I’ve not seen a script version of the story, only the film and the associated reviews.  
“Oh… there’s a movie?” he asks, and I simply nod… “Cool … so will you help me then?” he asks me.

I look at him. He so eager … obviously keen to undertake the role to the best of his ability. In that instant I can tell he’ll be a perfect Cowboy … it’s almost as if the role was written just for him. But it’s Joey … asking me, Chandler … his best friend … his gay friend … to kiss him. Even if it is for platonic research purposes I don’t think that it’s necessarily a good idea. I for one have never kissed a guy who I didn’t intend to date or sleep with. I certainly haven’t kissed my friends, well unless you count that one time on New Year’s Eve. But that wasn’t a real kiss. That was just Joey shutting me up. But I can't refuse him ... I've never been able to refuse him.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this … but OK, I’ll kiss you,” I say with a sigh. He immediately grins.  
“Thank you! You’re a lifesaver,” he says hopping up from the counter stool and walking over to me.  
“What now? Here?” I ask, a bit perplexed by the suddenness of his movement.

He stops and looks at me strangely. 

“Well, yeah, it’s not like we have much time … the audition is tomorrow and I haven’t finished reading the entire script yet.”  
“Maybe you ought to read it, it’ll help put context to your role,” I say, handing him the document.  
“But it’s so long …” he whines … “And my character isn’t even in half of it … and he doesn’t say much.”  
“Read the script Joe … I’m going to have a shower … I’ll kiss you when I come out,” I tell him, uttering a phrase I never thought I’d ever say to him.

With that I head to the bathroom and leave him standing there holding his script, just looking at me. I take the opportunity of solitude in the bathroom to gather my thoughts. Standing under the hot water I think about this situation and the dynamic that Joey and I share.

He’s always known that I was gay. Even before I did. He picked up on it during our very first meeting. I was showing him the apartment and the spare room that I was renting and he’d told me that he was ‘totally okay with the gay thing’. At the time I wasn’t even ready to admit it myself. The direct nature of his statement had initially flummoxed me and caused me to panic, nearly rejecting his rental application outright. But I’d gotten over it and ended up offering him the room, we became flatmates and then best friends not long after.

My journey into openly accepting my sexuality has been tough. I had always suspected that I was gay. But a difficult upbringing and some mental hang-ups that I struggled with for years caused me to actively deny the truth for a very long time. Finally, I asked a work friend, Shelley, to set me up on a date with one of our colleagues, Brian. She’d initially wanted to hook me up with another guy, Lowell, but I’d said no to that prospect. Brian was the only guy that interested me. Luckily the date had gone well … spectacularly well to be precise. He’d been my first great love and I’d learnt so much from him. But last year he’d been transferred to our Tulsa office and we’d broken up.

I haven’t had a relationship or even a date since then. Phoebe had tried setting me up with a friend of hers, but I’d refused the offer. I wasn’t ready for another dalliance. I’d told all my friends that I was OK, that I wasn’t lonely or horny, but I’d been lying. It was just that I’d begun to develop feelings for someone else. Someone unavailable. The only way I could cope with these feelings was to go back to my old habit of repression and denial. 

Despite my emerging feelings, I’ve never seriously considered Joey as a romantic prospect. Despite our close relationship as flatmates. He is the epitome of the straight alpha male. Dating a never-ending merry-go-round of beautiful women and having the most amorous sexual encounters with them, much to my derision due to the very thin walls in our apartment. 

As I soaped my wet body I tried to reason with myself. The only reason he was asking me to kiss him was because he wanted to get a part in a play. A role that may define his career. I can certainly help him with that and not let my bullshit crush get in the way. That’s what friends are for.

I take longer than usual in the bathroom after finishing my shower. I find myself putting on cologne and brushing my teeth. I didn’t intentionally perform these actions, it’s like my body is operating on automatic pilot. As if I’m getting ready for a hot date. Finally, with a deep breath, I open the bathroom door and step out.

“Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday dear Harold, Happy Birthday to you!” Joey sings the main line from his role in the play and before I can react he’s grabbed my neck and drawn me in for a kiss. 

His lips feel soft against mine. He delivers an extended closed mouth peck that lasts for about ten seconds. Memories of that New Year’s Eve kiss come rushing back to me. I hadn’t been out then, to myself or anyone else, but now it was different. His hands are gripping my neck securely but there is a gentleness to his touch. My eyes go wide in surprise and my first instinct is to kiss him back. But then I remember that this is exactly what the scene depicts and I must play my part.

“Who the hell are you?” I say in a sharp tone, pushing him away and glaring at him.

He steps back and looks at me with a confused expression, he also seems a bit shocked at my actions. Then he smiles as he glances at the script which is sitting on the nearby table.

“Wow… that was an amazing performance. That’s exactly what the script says that … Michael … is supposed to say and do,” Joey commends me.

I take a moment to regain my composure before taking a slight bow. 

“Well, I’m glad to be of assistance,” I say with a tight smile.

I look at him, he’s gone to quite a bit of effort to get into character. He has his white satin cowboy shirt on with the matching hat hanging over his shoulders. The character of Cowboy in the movie/play also wears his hat on his back. For a moment I wonder where he got the outfit, then I realise it’s part of his Hombre Man costume from when he was promoting men’s cologne a couple of years ago.

“Nice outfit … but Cowboy doesn’t wear that style of shirt. He wears a tight blue shirt unbuttoned to show his chest and a silk scarf around his neck, he’s a 1960s male prostitute after all,” I tell him, nodding towards his appearance.

He looks down at his own shirt and then back up at me.

“Oh, thanks … I’ll go change before we do the next scene, although I might have to borrow a scarf from Monica or Rachel,” he tells me, as he turns towards his bedroom.

I gulp silently in nervous apprehension. I know the next scene is very different.

“Just give me a moment, I need to get … dressed,” I say, indicating my current state of undress … I’m wrapped in a towel, my hair is damp, and I’m semi aroused … although I hope he can’t see that.  
“OK,” he replies, already halfway across the living room. 

I go into my bedroom and in the safety of this private environment, behind the closed door, I allow myself to show the true state of my nervousness. My breathing becomes more rapid and I can feel my heart rate increasing. I resist the urge to touch myself, although I desperately want to. Calm down Chandler, I tell myself quietly. Calm down. This is simply ridiculous … it’s just Joey.

Finally, I manage to relax enough to pull on some jeans and a t-shirt and comb my hair. Then, as I open my door to go back into the living room he springs himself upon me again.

“Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday dear Harold, Happy Birthday to you!” Joey sings again and then he’s kissing me again. 

This time I’m better prepared, I’d expected him to do this. I allow myself to accept his kiss, opening my lips and nudging my tongue gently against his mouth. He smells amazing. He’s wearing his Hombre cologne. It really suits him. This is the closest I’ve ever been to smelling it against his skin, it’s enticing.

For a split second, I think I feel his lips start to open which causes a rush of endorphins to engulf me. Then just as quickly as the moment arrived it’s over. He steps back and looks at me with a strange expression.

“You’re not supposed to use your tongue when kissing in show business,” he states simply.  
“Oh … sorry … I was just getting into the role. Harold is supposed to enjoy the kiss from Cowboy.”

I hope to hell that he believes this. It’s a reasonable excuse, I think. I mean it’s a true enough depiction of the play’s events and characters. Harold, although momentarily surprised, allows himself to enjoy the impromptu embrace from his ‘birthday present’ and he somewhat returns the kiss.

“That’s cool …” Joey responds casually, as he consults the script again … “Hey, I was thinking … if this play is a movie … do you think we might be able to rent it? It might be good … for research purposes.”

I exhale a breath that I hadn’t realised I’d been holding … it looks like he’s totally cool with my fervent kissing rehearsal. 

“Uh … yeah … maybe … it should be in the video store, I mean it’s fairly well known,” I say.  
“Cool … well let’s go get something to eat and take a look,” he suggests as he takes his cowboy hat off.  
“Ok,” I find myself agreeing. 

We do indeed find a copy of the movie on VHS at our local video store. After grabbing burgers for our dinner, and poking our heads into Monica and Rachel’s for a quick hello and to ask them if Joey can borrow a silk scarf, we head back to our place to watch the film. It’s been a while since I’ve seen it. I did indeed study it in college, as part of a film studies class that I took as an elective subject. I thought it was going to be easy but it had actually been quite a challenge. We’d studied this film and also another classic … Twelve Angry Men. Both excellent films, both dominated by men. It was almost as if my lecturer had been torturing me.

We watch the movie in relative silence. I’d forgotten some of the minor plot developments and it was interesting to watch it again. Especially since my recent … sexual awakening. Although watching the scenes that feature kissing and touching is a bit awkward with Joey sitting right there. The other element that’s hard for me to watch is the negative spiral that the main character, Michael, goes through. He’s clearly struggling with his homosexuality, just like I was … or am. 

“Well, I’m glad I watched it. Sometimes it’s hard to imagine all the characters from just reading the script,” Joey says after we finish watching the movie.  
“I think you’ll be great as Cowboy …” I tell him.  
“Is that because I’m dumb?” he asks me. 

The character of Cowboy is not a smart individual, something that the other movie characters harp on about quite a bit.

“No … of course not …” I say quickly, although it’s sort of true … “I just think you’re putting a lot of effort into the preparation for this role, more than normal.” 

He smiles and I feel immediate relief that he’s accepted my reasoning. It is true, this is the most I’ve ever seen him prepare or rehearse for a role.

“Will you practice the two scenes with me again?” he asks eagerly.

I look at him for a long moment before slowly nodding my agreement.

“Once more … and then that’s it,” I say in a warning tone.   
“Sure, that’s all I’ll need … I think I’ve almost got the role sorted,” he says, hopping up from his recliner chair.  
“Do you want me to come through the door again?” I ask.  
“Yeah … it helps to create the mood,” he tells me, glancing at his script one last time.

I go into my bedroom, take a deep breath and then open the door. Once again he sings Happy Birthday to me before kissing me. Once again I manage to keep my mouth shut and swat him away as I’m supposed to in this first scene. The play’s script basically calls for this kiss to be accidentally bestowed upon the wrong character … a mistaken identity situation, owing to a late guest of honour and a rather dense hired pretty boy. 

After the successful experience of the first scene, I retreat back to my room to briefly ‘reset’ in preparation for the next scene in which I’m supposed to be playing the intended recipient of the unique birthday present. 

This time though, it does not go to plan. 

The birthday jingle fades away as Joey aka Cowboy approaches me. It’s a slower, more seductive swagger than before and I have a brief moment to take in his physique. He has swapped the hideous white cowboy shirt for a more appropriate blue silk number, tight around the shoulders and upper arms, the top three buttons undone to show off his dark chest hair and well developed pectoral muscles. He’s tied the silk scarf around his neck just like Cowboy was wearing the accessory. It actually suits him.

Our eyes briefly meet, then he leans in and gently kisses me. Once again my mouth opens … almost reflexively as I massage his lips, but I remember to hold back my tongue. This time, though, he does open his mouth. Not just for a split second like our previous rehearsal, this time it is a deliberate act. This development is very interesting, he certainly didn’t kiss me this way before. Not this deeply, not for this long. Then, suddenly, his tongue is probing the inside of my mouth. So much for the rules of show business. 

I don’t look a gift horse in the mouth. Despite my surprise, I tilt my head and proceed to kiss him back, properly. His arms grip me a bit tighter, drawing me towards him and our bodies are now pressed up against one another. I can feel him breathing, feel his heart beating, smell that lovely scent.

I moan gently into his mouth, an erotic sound of pure lust. Unfortunately, it’s enough to break the moment and suddenly he pulls away. 

He stares at me for the longest moment. His breathing is unusually rapid and I know his heart is racing. 

“Chandler … I … um ….” He mumbles, trailing off.   
“I’m sorry … it was my fault … I shouldn’t …” I apologise, although I am definitely not sorry.

He continues to look at me. I’m sure that he will stop the silent interrogation at any moment and I’m a bit scared as to what his reaction is going to be. Is he going to laugh, or yell, or walk away? I’m not sure which potential reaction I’d prefer … obviously none of them, but I know that there will be a response. I avert my gaze, unable to keep looking at him. I can’t think of anything else to say, I can’t lie anymore. I liked kissing him. Really liked it.

Suddenly, he steps forward and crushes his lips against mine again. This time I really am surprised. This was certainly not the reaction that I was expecting. But despite my mental confusion, my body responds automatically. My arms immediately envelope him, pulling him closer. Our tongues passionately explore each other’s mouths and our hands are rapidly exploring each other’s bodies. 

By the time my mind finally catches up with my body’s carnal explorations I’ve already untucked his shirt and have my hands halfway underneath, gently stroking his strong, masculine back muscles. His hands have also pulled my t-shirt away from my jeans and they’re about to delve under.

I force myself to separate from the embrace. 

“Joey … Joey … stop,” I say, breathlessly and a little urgently.

His hands stop their exploration and he steps backwards, he sighs deeply as he runs his hand through his hair, clearly nervous. He looks at me, his eyes searching mine for an explanation.

“Joey … I … I … can’t … not with you,” I say, shaking my head. I turn away from him and sit down on the edge of my bed.  
“Chandler … I’m sorry … I got a bit carried away,” he apologises. 

He’s apologising to me? Why? It’s not like he did anything wrong, surely this was all my fault.

“You don’t have anything to apologise for …” I tell him  
“I liked it,” he tells me. I look up at him and our eyes meet.   
“Me too,” I reply simply.  
“Then why did you stop me?” he asks.  
“I don’t trust myself … Joey … I … I …” I say, trailing off as I come to a complete loss of words.  
“Are you attracted to me?” he asks me.

It’s a simple question, but also the most difficult question I’ve ever been asked. I close my eyes and take a deep breath before opening them again and looking directly at him.

“Yes,” I tell him.

There, it’s out. My little crush has been revealed. Although I’m pretty sure he already knew. Was I not as secretive as I’d thought? All those brief glimpses over the past year, the playful hugs we’d shared, the affectionate banter of best friends. Had he suspected or known all this time? I think so.

He looks at me for the longest moment, his eyes seemingly drinking me in. Finally, just as I think the anticipation is going to kill me he speaks.

“Good,” is all he says. 

Then he steps towards the bed, pushing me back against the mattress and immediately encasing my body with his own in a seductive, protective, and slightly dominating pose. His mouth devours mine, his tongue urgently seeking entry. I comply, willingly. We’re not acting anymore.

The End.


End file.
